Breaking down Barriers
by Silvermoone
Summary: A short story about what would happen if Fenris and Anders managed to get past their animosity.


**Breaking Down Barriers**

When did it happen? Or, perhaps the more important question would be: _how_ did it happen? A mage and an abomination – one of these things is bad enough on its own, but both... that combination should disgust me. It did once, long ago, or so it seems to me now.

When did it happen? Slowly, like a creeping vine covering a wall, so it was that he crept into my heart. How did it happen? Over a bottle of wine, where we came to a mutual understanding of each other – a comprehension that staggered me and at the same time drew me closer to him. There was a moment when I looked into his golden eyes and knew him, really knew him for who he was. I could see that same revelation reflected in his gaze; that shock of realisation when you find out that there is more to a person than you first thought.

The glance that I bestowed on his mouth was supposed to be quick, discreet, but instead, it lingered there. I followed the shape of his full lips, memorising them and wondering what they would feel like. The corner of his mouth lifted, and I thought it was a shame that he didn't smile more often. So mesmerised was I that it took a moment before I found myself questioning the reason for his smile. My gaze flickered to his, and I understood – he'd caught me staring.

A red flush covered my face as I hastily looked away, but my movement was stopped by a strong hand cupping my cheek. I should have pulled away, but there was such gentleness in his touch, unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I reached up and touched his hand that still framed my face, needing to reassure myself that it was really there. I couldn't look at him, knowing that my emotions would be easy to read and nervous about what he would make of them. A gasp of surprise travelled from my mouth to his at the pressure of his full lips on mine. It was a soft, tentative kiss, and I realise now how much courage it took for him to make that first move.

He moved away, just enough for me to talk - a chance to deny him. But how could I do that when the impression of his lips lingered like the touch of a ghost?  
"We shouldn't be doing this," I whispered, and yet my hand reached out to him, brushing against the rough stubble of his jaw, moving over the strong tendons of his neck and finally coming to rest on the nape of his neck. I remember thinking how soft his hair felt against my calloused hands, but that thought quickly dissipated as our lips joined once more.

The second kiss broke through the nervousness I'd been feeling, and a breathless moan escaped me as my mouth moved against his. Our arms closed around one another, dispersing the space between us and filling it with warm bodies. With that kiss we had stripped away the masks of anger and disapproval, we had thrown away the cloak of denial that had hidden our attraction, and in that moment I felt loved.

Passion grew and the kiss deepened becoming hungrier, harder, each of us desperate for more. Clothes were strewn across the floor as we made our way to the bed, finally toppling together onto the cool sheets which became instantly warmed by the heat of our bodies. A soft moan drifted into the air, I didn't know whose, but it heightened my need for him. I growled lustily as his hand smoothed over my body and wrapped around my aching erection. There was a breathless anticipation building between us, a growing urgency to be joined.

My hand gripped a firm muscled cheek and a tremor ran through him but I was in no hurry. Our bodies were entwined, hot skin and throbbing cocks pressed together, slick from our mingled precum. I rolled him onto his back, no longer needing the gentleness but a firmer, harder touch. I gripped his wrists, pressed them into the mattress as my body arched. I looked down into his face, seeing enlarged pupils that almost obliterated the golden amber, parted lips that begged to be kissed, and slowly I lowered myself back on top of him, groaning as he roughly kissed me back.

Our hips were moving in time, synced by the arousal coursing through our veins, driven by a carnal hunger.  
"Please, Fenris..." His plea ended in a long drawn out moan as I nipped at his neck, then continued down his torso, teasing with lips, tongue, and hands. His body bowed off the bed as my tongue licked the length of his hard cock. My mouth closed around the flushed head, and his hand gripped at my hair tugging needfully. The sharp sting made me moan and feeling the vibrations down his shaft, Anders flexed his hips, thrusting his hard member deeper into my mouth.

His balls felt heavy in my hand as I fondled them. "Yes," he hissed, elongating the word as pleasure shot through his body. Then my fingers were moving lower, seeking out and finding that tight little starburst. I paused, realising I had nothing with which I could wet his passage.  
Anders raised his head. "Why did you stop?"  
I explained the reason, and he became nervous, fidgeting with the sheets. Before I could question his change in manner, he blurted out, "I could use magic to get myself slick for you."  
Did it give me pause? No, I can honestly say that it didn't. I knew who I was kissing, who I was preparing to make love to. Some might think that it was my smaller head doing the thinking for me that day, and perhaps that makes it easier to understand this tale, but it's not the truth, and I promised myself I'd be honest in the telling of this story.

So, I took his hand and guided it to the tight little hole, working my finger with his as we massaged the muscle. I groaned at the sight of his finger breaching his ass, and took hold of my throbbing cock trying to ease the ache with a few swift strokes. He gasped and his anus tightened, and I knew he'd released a grease spell. His finger slipped free, glistening against the bedsheets, and my own immediately replaced it. Incredible heat surrounded my probing digit as I prepared him for my entry.

I nuzzled his muscled stomach, his firm thighs, and his swollen penis as I added more fingers until finally, he was ready for me. I slipped my arms beneath his legs and leaned forward, needing to see his face as I entered him. Slowly, I slid inside, pausing momentarily, as much to allow me to get a grip on my control as it was to give him time to adjust. His hand cupped my head, pulling me down for a kiss as I rocked my hips, pushing myself slowly into his tight heat.

When I was finally buried all the way inside of him, I took a moment to fully appreciate the amazing sensations flowing through my body. Anders slid one hand down my back, a light teasing stroke that made my skin quiver, then he took a firm hold on my buttock. "Move."  
The word was part command/part plea, and for once, I was happy to obey. My hips lifted and lowered, a long, drawn-out stroking of his wet passage.

With each thrust I could feel his hard cock sliding against my stomach, throbbing insistently, beating in time with my own penis. I needed to feel him in my hand, and so I pushed myself into a kneeling position, placing Anders' legs on my shoulders. I twined an arm around a muscular calf, stroking my fingers over the warm flesh while my other hand took a firm hold on his thick erection.

I started moving faster, pounding his ass with every ounce of passion I possessed. With each pump of my hips, his penis moved in and out of my curled fist and it felt like steel wrapped in velvet.  
"Fenris, oh fuck! I'm so close."  
I smiled, a pleased curling of the lips; in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to feel him come around my thrusting cock and to feel his hot semen coat my hand. Sweat trickled down our bodies as the pace increased and filled the room with the sound of our hips slapping together.

I gritted my teeth at the first sign of my own approaching orgasm, determined not to climax until I'd satisfied Anders. His breathing was coming in fast gasps, his body writhing beneath me, and then his face contorted with pleasure and his body arched upwards. His hand joined mine in stroking his swollen cock, and then, with a shout he came, shooting thick cum over my hand and his stomach. I grunted as his ass tightened around my penis, and I knew I was only moments away from joining him. Lowering myself onto his body, I took his mouth in a desperate kiss, growling as I felt myself thicken within the tight heat of his passage, then my hips bucked as I spilled my seed inside of him.

We lay there, breathless but satiated; no words were spoken for there were none to be said. I fell asleep to the feel of his hand slowly stroking my hip. He was gone when I awoke, and even before I saw his letter, I knew he would never return to my bed. He'd been brief in the missive, thanking me for giving him some peace and happiness. If I'd wanted to read between the lines, I would have seen the unwritten message: _Thank you for giving me some peace and happiness before I travel the dark path ahead of me._ But I didn't want to see that. Perhaps I'd already decided that there could be no happy ending for us.

The next time I saw him was at the Viscount's Keep, along with all of Hawke's friends and companions. The smile he gave me was sad and wistful, and I wanted to ask him what he meant by that look, but before I had a chance, the Chantry exploded. Recriminations were thrown back and forth as I stood there, consumed by a cold void.

"Anders, what have you done?"  
Hawke said the words that should have been mine, and his eyes reflected the same sheen of tears that I knew glistened in my own. The mages and Templars had gone, spreading their fight through the streets of Kirkwall. A shocked silence had fallen over the small group of friends, their eyes troubled.

Anders had taken a seat on a crate, his expression calm in the face of certain death. Hawke, standing behind him, seemed to have aged as he wrestled with the difficult decision that weighed upon his heart. Then his shoulders slumped, an anguished look deepened the lines on his face, and with a trembling hand, he reached for a small knife.

From the moment of the explosion, uncertainty had battered my brain, freezing my tongue, holding me motionless. But as I watched Hawke's fingers curl around the grip, I remembered the gentle touch of Anders' hand and the words of love we'd whispered in the dark of the night. I moved then, spurred on by fear, panicked words tumbling from my mouth. "Don't! Hawke, you don't need to do that." Astonished eyes turned towards me, burning with intense curiosity. But they mattered not, all that was of importance to me was stopping the knife from carrying out its terrible deed.

The hand was halted and a flicker of hope crossed Hawke's face. Blue eyes stared into mine, questioning, and then I saw a glimmer of comprehension. "Fenris..."  
That one word held a wealth of understanding. Perhaps, having lost loved ones himself, he recognised the look of pain and despair that twisted my expression, or maybe he saw the fear brimming in my eyes.

"He murdered the Grand Cleric, what would you have me do?"  
Words have never been my strong point – they swirl around in my head but rarely leave my mouth, and yet in this instance, I was inspired. "You said you would defend the mages. Shouldn't that include Anders? A man whom we have fought beside for six years, who has healed our wounds. We've laughed and joked with him, played cards and shared a drink with him. He has been a friend to us, and he deserves our loyalty, now more than ever. "

Breathless, I awaited his reaction. Nervousness rolled around my stomach, making me nauseous.

 _Don't make me fight you._

The thought hung in the air like a turbulent storm cloud. A small smile lifted the corner of Hawke's mouth and the knife was returned back to its sheath. I was able to breathe again. Angry words poured from Sebastian's mouth but they were soon depleted, and he walked away promising retribution. A time may come when we will have to face the angry prince, but that is not today, and so I consigned that thought into the hands of fate.

He was standing before me, this mage that had somehow touched my heart. "Why?" The word trembled between us, ready to bring it all to an end.  
"Because I can't lose you." It was a simple statement, its meaning easily understood, as uncomplicated as my love for him.  
I breathed a happy sigh as his hand caressed my cheek. "I never thought..." The whispered sentence, although unfinished, was also simplistic, at least to me. A lone tear trickled from his golden eyes and was soon joined by a second.

 _It's no longer alone. I'm no longer alone._

His hand stroked through my hair, gently pulling me towards him, and I eagerly followed. The pressure of his warm lips elicited feelings of joy, desire, and an overwhelming need to protect my man, _my_ mage. The kiss was but a brief respite from the realities of life, and so we parted, barely satisfied, but ready to take on the world if need be.

By the end of the day, it was over. The battle was won, and we were free; relatively speaking, of course. It seemed likely that someone would come searching for us, for him, but with the friends we had, we knew it would be possible to stay hidden. Perhaps, in time there would be the possibility of a place of our own, somewhere away from prying eyes. However, not knowing what the future held, that dream too was placed in the hands of fate.

A strong arm slid around my waist and a soft whisper brushed across my ear. "Isabela has provided us with a cabin on this magnificent ship of hers." His ardour was tangible, his desire obvious in the way he pressed against me. I took his hand and followed him to a place where we could be alone. A strange feeling settled over me, and I realised, with a smile, that it was contentment.

The End


End file.
